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Authors: Katherine Kingston

BOOK: BindingPassion
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Sir Philip represented an incredible change in her life. In
his extraordinary looks, noble carriage, and winning personality, he was unlike
any man she’d met before. But more, he actually seemed to like her. The eyes
that met hers said he found her attractive. No one had ever looked at her with
that combination of admiration and desire. It burrowed into her, tunneling
right down into her heart and set something aflame there.

Before long she lost any sense of where she was or what she
was doing. The rhythm of the music carried her body in motion, but her
attention was all for her partner. They might have been the only two people
there for all she was aware of anything else. The touch of his fingers against
her hands or on her arms when they met or twirled was the only sensation that
mattered, his the only face she saw. Her hand trembled each time she placed it
against his, and she felt an answering shiver from him.

When the music eventually stopped, it took several beats
before she realized it. In that time she kept dancing, her gaze fixed on his
face. Only when his hand on her arm stilled her and the quiet penetrated her
bemused mind, did she halt her movement and look around. A few people stared at
her, but most were intent on their current partner or already seeking a new
one.

Sir Philip leaned over to whisper to her. “Lady Mary, I
believe this is where the lord and lady should retire and allow the people to
continue their revelry unfettered by the gaze of their masters.”

She nodded and allowed him to lead her away from the dance
floor back toward the manor. On the way, he plucked one of the torches from the
ground to light their path and picked up a flagon of ale that he tucked into
the crook of his arm. A few people waved or nodded as they passed, but many
were already deep in an ale-induced haze or intent on finding a partner for the
next dance. Isabel, her young maid, saw her and began to follow, but Mary waved
her off, telling the girl she could manage for herself for the evening. For a
moment, Isabel’s gaze flickered between her mistress and the lord who was her
companion, then she grinned and nodded before turning back and resuming her
interrupted flirting. She moved a little and Mary noted the gentleman gathering
Isabel’s attention was Sir Peter. A hint of alarm flared. The girl mustn’t set
any hopes on Sir Philip’s handsome nephew.

She forgot the worry when she looked at Philip again. No one
else stopped them or interfered. The interior of the manor was deserted and
echoed in an odd way. Yet with Philip at her side, she had all the
companionship she needed.

“I’ve never heard the manor this quiet,” she said. “Always
there’s some noise somewhere, someone talking or moving about. It seems very
strange.”

“There is someone about now, though,” Philip said. “We two.”

They reached the door to his solar. He paused there and his
gaze questioned her. She wasn’t sure she understood the question, but she knew
the answer. She nodded. His grin deepened into a real smile as he pushed the
door open and ushered her into the room.

A fire was laid and he put the torch to it before setting
the light into a bracket on the wall. The fire threw out heat into the chilly
room, and they moved closer to it.

Once inside the circle of its warmth, Philip offered her a
drink and poured out cups of ale for each of them. For a few minutes, they
drank in silence, staring into the fire.

“My thanks, Lady Mary, for all your effort in making the
feast such a success.”

“It was my pleasure, my lord. Many a day has gone by since
we’ve had such merriment here. ‘Tis long overdue.”

“Time brings change for all of us.” He drained his cup and
set it aside, then reached out, took her cup, and put it on the side table as
well. His eyes had a wicked glow that was more than just reflection of the flames
in the fireplace when he asked, “May I hold you?”

She nodded, knowing she wanted it, fearful of failing him.
He drew her closer, putting his arms around her. He held her carefully, letting
her feel his strength, yet in a way that also told her she could break away
from him at any time and he’d let her go.

Though she tried to will herself to relax, her body went
tense anyway, as though it still expected the assault she grew used to from Sir
Benwyck. Philip felt it. He loosened his hold but didn’t let her go. Instead he
rubbed a gentle, soothing hand up and down along her back, firmly enough to
massage the muscles but not hard enough to hurt. It helped ease her tension,
which drained gradually away.

The warmth from the fire penetrated her flesh, but even more,
the heat of his body began to work its way into her. Prickles crawled up and
down her skin and she raised her head to look at him. She met his intent gaze.
His expression questioned her, though a flame burning deep in his blue eyes
told her what he wanted. The fine tremor of the arms around her suggested he
wanted it very badly.

Mary sighed. Sir Philip was by far the most handsome man
she’d ever met, but he was so much more than just his good looks. Noble,
strong, and kind. Amazingly kind. That was something she’d never looked to find
in a husband.

She reached up and put a finger on his lips to feel their
soft, damp fullness. A shiver ran down his body as she touched him. He opened
his mouth and pulled her finger into its hot depth with a gentle suction. The
sensation shot through her like a bolt of lightning. Energy charged from his
mouth, from the heat and pressure there, spreading into her finger and thence
all through her. Muscles tightened in her body again, but not with fear, this
time.

The tip of his tongue brushed across the finger in his
mouth, circled lightly around it, and caressed. She gasped deep in her throat
as her breath caught and held there. “My lord!” The words came out almost as a
moan with little air behind them.

The hands that had been rubbing her back stilled, then moved
up until they reached her neck and pushed beneath the back of the mesh hair
covering to find the bare skin below. Clever fingers explored the hollows below
her hairline, then moved until they were under her ears. She’d never guessed
her earlobes held so much capacity for sensation.

He released her finger and bent forward until he could press
his lips to hers. The tingles she’d felt earlier were small and pale compared
to the shafts of fire that tore through her. His mouth moved over hers, the
touch a rough caress and a potent demand. Her lips parted under the onslaught
and his tongue invaded.

He pulled off her hair covering and ran his fingers through
her hair, combing out the fine strands while his tongue stroked over hers. It
sent a shivery shock through her.

He drew back and released her mouth but kept his hands on
her shoulders. “Tell me how it feels,” he demanded. “Does it repel you?”

“Nay, my lord. It’s strange. It makes me feel hot and heavy
inside, as though the skin can barely contain the excitement it causes. Is that
how it should feel?”

“Aye. Does this feel good to you?”

He stroked his fingers along her throat.

She sighed with pleasure. “Aye, my lord.”

“Philip. Philip when we’re private, Mary.”

“As you will, Philip.” She drew in a sharp breath as his
hand moved down the front of her gown. When his fingers approached her breast,
the fear started to creep back in.

“What is it?” he asked, feeling her sudden tension.

“Where your hand is.”

“Your breast,” he said.

“Aye. Sir Benwyck used to grab them and pinch and squeeze
until he left bruises.”

Philip muttered something too low for her to understand.

“My lord?”

“Words not fit for a gentle lady’s ear,” he admitted. “Mary,
if you’ll allow it, I’d like to show you what your breasts can truly feel. ‘Tis
all we’ll do tonight. And forget not that I’ve promised you can stop me at any
time. Will you trust me in this?”

She looked at him, studying his face, the sincerity in his
clear, deep blue eyes. As Brianne had said, what had she left to lose?

“Aye, Philip.”

His smile made her heart beat strangely and her breath catch
in her chest.

“I’ll tell you what I would do, so as not to startle you.
First, though, I’m going to kiss you again.”

He did, matching his lips to hers and stroking with his
tongue until her blood began to flow more quickly in her veins. She felt
herself melting against him, but then he pulled back.

“I’m going to run my hands down the front of your gown now.
Try to relax and just feel it. You’ve naught to fear from me.”

She drew a breath and nodded. He put a hand on either side
of her throat, trailing his fingers along the sensitive flesh as he moved down.
Then the hands slid down farther, along the front of her gown, until the tips
of his fingers brushed over her breasts.

A sharp spear of pleasure stabbed into her as he touched the
tips. It was a quick brief contact before he ran his hands down along the sides
of her gown to her waist. He watched her face as he reached back up again and
laid his palms over her breasts, resting them there. When she didn’t object, he
moved them gently, sliding back and forth across the mounds. She sighed as the
heat from his touch penetrated right down to her loins.

“You like that?”

“Can you not tell?” she said on a sigh.

“I would be sure. I’m going to open your gown. You’ll enjoy
it yet more on your bare skin.”

He found the tapes that held the gown closed and tugged
loose the tiny, hidden bows that fastened it over her shift. He pushed it off
her shoulders and let the gown fall in a heap on the floor. She stood in front
of him. Though the material of the shift was light and thin, they were close
enough to the fire that she felt no chill. She wasn’t sure if her shiver was
due to fear or excitement. Possibly both.

He ran his hands up and down her arms to soothe and calm
her. “There’s naught to fear.”

The shift had a tape at the back of the neck to hold it
closed. He reached over her shoulders to release it and pushed the material
back off her shoulders. It slid down until it caught on her girdle, leaving her
bare to the waist. He backed a step a way to stare at her. Her breasts were
small compared to most of the other women she knew, pointed and high. The tips
pulled up into hard little nubs.

“Beautiful,” he said. “You’re perfect. Any man who could
treat such loveliness with so little respect forfeits any right to honor,
position, or love.” He reached up then and cupped her breasts in the palms of
his hands, lifting them tenderly so the pink tips pointed upward. His big
hands, with the long, slender fingers, cradled her flesh so gently, so
carefully, her fear dissipated to nothing.

“I must kiss them,” he said.

He dipped his head to press his lips to the top of first one
breast, then the other. After he returned to the first, he ran his mouth down
until it touched the hardened tip.

She moaned as the contact sent licks of flame through her.
“Philip!”

He lifted his head to look at her. “You’d have me stop,
Mary?”

“Nay,” she answered. “Nay.”

He watched her, but once he was sure it was so, he looked
down at her breasts. “These are the most perfect I’ve ever seen.” He gently
pressed them together and lifted them in his hands.

“You’ve seen so many, then, my lord?”

He laughed. “On many a tavern wench with a low bodice
serving me a tankard of ale.” Instead of lifting his head, he looked up at her
through his eyelashes. “Is that the proper answer?”

“‘Twill do.”

She put her hands on his cheeks and lifted his face until
she could reach his mouth. His eyebrows rose as she leaned forward to press her
mouth to his. His beard rasped pleasantly against her palms. He tasted of ale
and something uniquely Philip.

While she kissed him, moving her lips carefully across his,
testing their texture and pliancy, he moved his hands on her breasts, splaying
the fingers so that the tip of each index finger rested on a nipple.

She sucked in a gasp as his fingers pressed down lightly.
Exquisite, prickly sensations jabbed into her through the nipples. It was hot
and icy cold at the same time, like nothing she’d ever experienced, and it sent
a bubbly sensation floating through her veins. The heat from it gathered low
down in her loins, building a new sort of tension there.

He squeezed gently, brushed across the nipples, circled them
with his fingers, even pinched just enough to make her squeal with pleasure
rather than pain. He was gentle, careful, and clever, teasing the hardened tips
until she didn’t think she could contain the fire it roused.

Then he dipped his head and ran his tongue over them.
Pleasure more intense than she’d ever imagined was possible shot through her
when he licked and sucked at her nipples.

Time disappeared, lost meaning, didn’t exist, as Philip
taught her the many ways he could pleasure her breasts. She felt she could have
spent the rest of the night letting him show her the stunning sensations of
which her body was capable. But eventually, he drew back and lifted her shift
back into place. He tried to retie the tape at the back but his fingers weren’t
steady enough to manage.

She took his hands and moved them off her shoulders, holding
them in front of her. “I’ll just put the gown back over it,” she said. She
didn’t release his hands, however, as she searched his face. She was coming to
like his face a great deal, she realized, and she treasured every hot look from
his blue eyes, every smile from his shapely mouth.

“Philip,” she said on a sighing breath. “Thank you.”

He kissed her again, a kiss that went on and on when neither
of them wanted to break it off. At last, though, he drew back. “‘Tis time to be
abed,” he said. “The morning approaches more rapidly than we might wish.”

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